Luyện nghe bài hát Laying Blame

Verse One -
I gave birth to these styles, you should pay me rhyme support,
Like Billy Jean Michael Jackson for child support,
Rhyme is thought, is it? Lethal, Damn you'll get hurt,
Cos I XL the tag on my shirt,
I'll these rappers easing back, rhyme with a swagger,
Feed your girl and hide your viagra,
If pain was diabetes, would be my insulin,
I'm out the insolent in an instant when
bring the rhyme; I'll battle if you wanna tussle,
A line can turn that fatty matter into muscle,
You stagnate, my rhymes circulate like rumours,
Your living that god has a sense of humour,
I'm butter made from the that came from the crop,
I'll move the mountain to Mohammed scream my from the top,
And proclaim I got, boy, so give me headroom,
These clubs are of more toys than spoilt kids bedrooms,
When I'm on stage I lose my breath,
Cos I got so heart that there's no room in my chest,
Left for lungs, yes the yet
To come, my like a hand around your neck,
Constricting breathing like snakebites and beestings,
I'm all up in arseholes faces like G-Strings,
I searched the world for but I fear the
competition I found was in a mirror.

Verse Two -
Pressure steps to the batters plate you salivate, known to captivate,
I have to break new barriers when a chaste nun masturbates,
If one more critic asks me what I do, slap them mate,
And tell them I'm a as I strap her up in gaffer tape,
Loudmouths me wanna flip,
MCs dream they got a grip, and wake up with their hand on their dick,
Honest, if they ride the I tell the get off me,
Cos I'm unstable like a cradle bridge, so cross me,
I'm highly explosive; you're a playing with matches,
I break you give hairline fractures,
actors keep it real? You're really wak it's fact,
You spit while I spit the finest chapters,
Perhaps it's time to the mic,
Like the should have done son, cos no-one wants to be like,
That anymore, cos nowadays you're taken on a tour,
Of coke, guns and when they're actually poor,
flawed, yet entertaining,
I it how far we're willing to go to satisfy a craving,
Make them swallow their like epileptics,
I'll respect it, I come clean as if my lube was antiseptic,
So blow me, you couldn't rhyme fresh,
I'm on a level of divineness, so call me your highness,
only three things that are certain in life,
Death, and Hilltop Hood working the mic.